ChupaChups
by The BatThing
Summary: Computer caught fire  long story. Something to pass the time for me. A ripoff of my other fanfiction: You Do Good, You Find Good. Bleah. It's cold outside. I'm going to bed.


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**My computer caught fire – true story. It's been broken for about two months, and in limbo a lot longer (that explains my lack of updating and talking to my friends on here). Anyhow - brought it into the store, and they call the next day. Apparently they had to call the fire department and everything … it'll cost me 300 to fix. So … soon … I'll be able to update for real. I have all the chapters saved on that computer, so as soon as it's fixed – I update. Here's something just 'cause I was dying. 

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Batman or any such characters. I don't own Chupa-Chups either.

"One - two boys by the river, down by the water, telling riddles in the dark. With fireflies, under the moonlight, carving the inside of a tree with a knife. Did you ever hear the one about the boy's big sister? His best friend come along, and he tried to kiss her! The only difference that I see is that you are exactly the same as you use to be. One boy lives in a tower, with bow and arrow and an artificial heart."

The Differences – _The Wallflowers_

**Chupa-Chups**

By: The BatThing

It was the day of Dick Grayson's birthday, and things had been more than great so far. Alfred had made pancakes for breakfast, with chocolate chips, and when there was only one left Dick was the one who got it because: 'it was his birthday'.

Eleven years old, and Dick felt rather mature and grown-up. He was going to have his friends over at 12 that afternoon, because Alfred had said it was ok two weeks ago. Almost everyone from the gypsy's class was going to be coming, _even_ Sandra Cullins. Nothing was going to make Dick mad today; nothing was going to make his birthday bad.

It was ten in the morning now, and Jason Todd had agreed to go outside and play some football, so they had been playing – the score in Dick's favor, like it usually was, which was probably the reason the nine-year-old boy was loosing interest. He was reaching down on the ground, ignoring Dick's instructions to hike.

"Look, another one." Jason lifted a butterfly up by its yellow wings and surveyed it with a certain amount of interest. The insect was recently dead, still colorful and still in its perfect condition, but lifeless. The nine-year-old held it, with a smile, up so Dick could see it. "I'm glad it's dead. It's a dumb butterfly. Butterflies are stupid."

There was a long list of things that Dick could say in response if he had been calm enough to think them through. Recently Jason had shown a different side that made his brother unnerved, rattled, and a bit upset. This was one of those moments. Not that Dick was scared of a dead but, no – he thought it was cool most of the time. But right now, with Jason saying it, he was just upset. "Oh, leave it alone – are you going to play football or aren't you?"

"I'm sick of playing with you." Jason answered, ripping the bug's wings right off. "You play dumb."

"No I _don't_."

To Jason, Dick did play dumb. It wasn't that he cheated, or that he sorry sport, it was that he was smaller than Jason but ten times better at everything. It didn't make sense, and it wasn't fair. No matter how hard Jason tried to win, he couldn't, not unless Dick felt bad enough and let him make the touchdown, get the extra point, or win the race. "Yes you do."

"Leave it alone, Jason!" The Romanian boy narrowed his eyes, watching as his playmate began to rip the remaining legs off the now tattered body. "No wonder you don't have friends."

The nine-year-old gave no answer to that, he momentarily stared down Dick and then proceeded to take off another leg.

"I said to _stop_! Remember what Alfred said when you were pulling off the lighters off the lightning bugs? He said it was cruel and mean, and that you were _hurting_ them!"

"This butterfly is dead, stupid."

"I know its dead, and I'm not _stupid_!" Dick heaved a sigh, football resting loosely in his hand. "Stop it or I'll tell."

Another leg.

"I mean it."

An antenna was pulled out.

Dick watched it fall to the ground. He saw the bright yellow remains of the wings, and wondered why Jason had to act so stupid. He thought about the animals he had to take care of in the circus, and he remembered how mad he'd get when visitors would throw things at them, or show off their cruelty. It was always uncalled for, and John Grayson had always stepped in to stop them. So Dick did just that, just with a little less negotiating and a little more violence. With a single shove, Jason was on the ground.

"HEY!"

"I told you to stop it." Dick declared. "I meant it."

Jason jumped back up and shoved the eleven-year-old back, hard but not hard enough to throw Dick off his balance. He moved to give another shove but just like always, Dick was able to stop it and then knock the nine-year-old down to the ground. "I'm going inside."

The two headed on indoors, neither talking to each other, but both obviously unhappy. Alfred stopped them at the front door, clicking his tongue at the soiled clothes and grass-stained jeans. He sent them straight upstairs, reminding them that guests would be over in no time, and that they both needed to be ready. The small reminder that it was Dick's birthday, and soon he would be the center of attention, allowed for the eleven-year-old to forget about the butterfly incident and start being cheerful again. "Race you upstairs, Jays!" He took off but slowed when Jason only walked. "Why aren't you racing me?"

The nine-year-old ignored the question and continued on his way, head down towards the ground, and frowning about things – a lot of things.

The time passed by, and soon people were arriving, kids all in the front lawn, the boys preparing to play soccer, and the few girls giggling about the matter. Jason had made his way outside, slightly curious, and encouraged by Alfred. The butler urged and prompted enough to get the younger boy outside with everyone else. Dick didn't seem to mind his presence at all, and the other boys didn't seem to notice him at all – that was until they began to pick teams.

"_He_ can't play, Dick – he's nine years old, that's three years younger than us." Darren Marsh complained when he saw that Jason was still lingering around. "He's too little to play."

"He's bigger than me." Dick answered, taking his brother's side without even realizing he was defending. The newly turned eleven-year-old gave a shrug, smiling despite the drama. "I just turned eleven, so what's the difference?"

There were mutters, nobody apparently happy that Jason was going to be playing. Darren heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. "But you're good at soccer."

"Jason plays with me all the time."

"…Well he won't be on _my _team." Aaron Baize piped up, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "He'll slow us down, and I want to win."

Jason glared, not enjoying being ignored, though thoroughly use to it. "Shut-up, ass-hole, I can play better than you can."

There was a collective silence, mostly because the boys were in awe of the crude language displayed. Most of them hardly dared to say that in large groups, incase they were to get caught and yelled at. This upped Jason's status slightly; even Aaron had to give kudos to the nine-year-old.

So, no more complaints were made about Jason playing. Dick and Aaron were automatically team captains and began to pick out who they wanted to play for them. Jason waited patiently, wishing that his brother would pick him first, but it didn't happen. As the seconds wore on he crossed his fingers in hope that Dick would pick him at all, but that didn't happen either. The boy did his best not to blush when he was the last person to get picked, and Aaron had to take him – seeing as it made the sides even.

Determined to show that everyone had made a huge mistake by _not_ picking him first, Jason's play became violent and self-centered. He was a ball hog, a poor sport, and made enough fouls to make even Dick upset.

"He can't play with us, Dick!"

"You idiot – I think I broke my wrist!" Scott Charles whined, having just been plowed down by the nine-year-old.

"Do you even _know_ how to _pass _a ball, or are you just stupid?" Aaron snapped, eyes narrowed at Jason for what seemed to be the hundredth time that afternoon. A supporting boo chorus came from the girls, who found the game boring, but the drama interesting.

"He's only nine, Aaron – leave him alone." Sandra Cullins suddenly said, hands on her hips and blonde ponytail flipping as she rattled off the lecture. "You've been mean to him all day long!"

"Shut-up, I don't need help from a stupid girl!" It had been enough to get scolded by the whole team, to be picked last, to be doubted – but to have a girl stick up and fight his fight was more than he could take. Jason gave the ball a good hard kick, sending it flying and stormed towards the house. "It's just a _stupid_ game, I _hate_ soccer!"

Sandra quickly changed her approach, gaining a new perspective of the boy she had been defending. "Excuse _me_ for helping! If you want to be a big baby, then go be one. No wonder why they were all being mean to you – it's because you're only a. Big. Cry. Baby."

Dick watched as Jason left, confused on whose side to take – but concerned that his friends would think of him poorly. He liked Sandra too much to tell her to stop, even when people around him started saying things about Jason's parents being bad people – he didn't do a thing. "Can we finish the game or what?"

* * *

"I HATE PEOPLE!" Jason slammed the door on his way inside, which startled the hired help who were carrying things outside for the small celebration. The nine-year-old ignored them, stomping through the hall and to the sitting room where he flung himself on the couch, lying there for a long while – fuming and refusing to cry. "Stupid Dick, I _hate _him."

"Master Jason?"

"I don't want to talk, Alfred – go away!"

"What happened?"

"GO AWAY!"

There was a silence, as if Alfred were considering not doing as Jason asked – but then he walked away, leaving Jason to his loathing and self-pity. The butler came in and out, at times asking if Jason were hungry, or if Jason wanted some birthday cake, but each time he was denied. Finally, after about forty minutes of that, Alfred had enough and decided to end this problem. "Master Richard said you played unfairly and that's why you're upset."

"Well, Dick's always right, isn't he?" Jason bitterly said, his arm was damp, and his face felt entirely too warm. He didn't look at Alfred because he was much too embarrassed to look at Alfred, maybe even a bit scared. "Everybody _loves_ Dick."

"Master Richard is far from being as … highly acclaimed as you seem to think he is. Not everybody loves him because not everybody knows him." The butler almost smiled, but held it back, sensing it could easily be taken the wrong way. "Master Jason, what happened?"

"…" Jason heaved a heavy sigh and narrowed his eyes all the more at the memory. "They called me names, said I couldn't play. Nobody wanted me on their team because I was nine, and too little." At this he lifted his head, finally looking at the butler. "I'm bigger than Dick though! So why couldn't _I_ play?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow at this. "Master Richard didn't let you play?"

It was a sticky situation, and Jason opened his mouth only to shut it. This was his chance to get back at his older brother, so he nodded. "I hate Dick's friends! I hate Dick!"

This shed a different light for Alfred. He didn't approve of anyone being left out or being teased, and if Dick allowed and supported such an act … well, the butler wasn't going to just let that go. He stood up and started out of the room, telling Jason he would be right back. Outside, in the lawn, kids were all over, split into groups. Most of the boys, including Dick, were playing soccer still. The girls, and a few tired looking boys, sat nearby, laughing and talking.

Alfred didn't yell for Dick, he just walked over to the boy, forcing the game to come to a sudden stop, and gave a stern look. "If you wouldn't mind a word, Master Dick? It will only be a moment."

"Ooookay." Dick was genuinely confused as he followed the elder man across the lawn and up the stairs towards the house. "Alfred? What's wrong?"

"I believe you owe Master Jason quite the apology."

"FOR WHAT?!" Dick demanded. "He needs to apologize to us!! He was mean and played mean! Why should I have to apologize for-."

"Is something the matter?"

The two turned. Bruce stood there, having just arrived home and drawn by the noise outside. Alfred gave him a short bow, acknowledging him with the motion. But before he could say anything, or even finish the incline, Dick began to blurt out his troubles.

"Jason is the problem! He's ruining everything because he's a big spoiled _cry_ baby!"

"Apparently we have two mixed stories." Alfred intervened. "Master Jason claims that Master Richard wouldn't allow him to play soccer because he was too small and too young."

Dick scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "_I_ made my friends _let_ him play! But when he did, he was mean and hurt them, and didn't play fair! He ran inside before we even kicked him from the team!"

Alfred gave Bruce a look, both knowing that it was probably best to believe Dick in situations like this. Jason had never been known for his honesty. "I think your friends are waiting, Master Richard – thank you for explaining."

The eleven-year-old gave a strained look, like the whole ordeal was below him, and then ran back to where his friends were, leaving Bruce and Alfred.

"I do believe Master Jason might be feeling a tad left out."

"I do believe _Master Jason_ might be feeling a tad _bratty_." Bruce answered, hands in his pockets with a roll of his eyes. "From the sound of it, Dick let him play and he ruined the game by himself."

Alfred gave a look.

"What?!"

"How quick we are to come to conclusions, Master Bruce. How quick we are to judge."

"We both know Jason. We both know how he gets when things don't go his way." Bruce answered. "This isn't just some random conclusion that's unfair, it's based on past experiences."

Another look.

"Stop looking at me like that!"

Alfred hummed something and started back in the house, clearly disagreeing. Bruce followed, wanting the butler on his side – it wasn't any good if Alfred wasn't on his side. "Well, what do _you_ think it is then?"

"I do believe that Master Jason is feeling a tad left out." Alfred repeated. "I have never come to the impression that he has friends other than Master Dick. Never has he made any mention of such. So, now that Master Richard has all his friends over, and he takes their sides, I can only imagine that Master Jason isn't enjoying himself."

"He doesn't have any friends because he doesn't make an effort."

"With all due respect, Master Bruce, neither do you. Master Jason is _nine_ and his best friend is suddenly on a different level. Try and relate, hmm? I can hardly believe that he wants to be left out. Who wants to be ignored?"

Bruce took in a deep breath and thought of himself. He enjoyed when people left him alone, but saying that didn't seem like a good plan. He wasn't a total monster, he did understand what was being said – and he did have more loyalty for Jason than he did for any of Dick's friends out there. "What are you going to do?"

This earned a slight smile.

"What are you smiling about?"

* * *

"Hey Jays, how's it going in here … all alone?" Bruce took a seat on the arm of the couch, smug in knowing that Alfred wasn't going to yell at him for it. After all, he _was_ in here talking. "You don't want to go outside with Dick and the others?"

Jason didn't answer with real words, and if he were brave enough he wouldn't have answered at all. "_**Mmmm**_." His head stayed hidden as he tightened up a bit.

"I don't understand what that means."

A sigh. "Alfred told you what happened."

"Yeah, and we checked your story out with Dick's, and let me tell you something – I don't think yours was completely correct. Everyone outside claims that -."

"THEY WOULD! THEY ALL HATE ME!" Jason lifted his head, chin trembling out of many different emotions. He was mad, he was scared, he was sad – he just wanted to changed the World rotated at times. He really did. "Why would they admit to what they did? They're liars."

"I have cameras outside, I saw everything that happened." Bruce lied. He knew Alfred hated when he did things like this, but it was the easiest way to get Jason to just fess up. The billionaire knew full well, that given the opportunity, Jason would lie himself out of anything – no matter what.

Jason pulled back a bit. He considered how to say that the cameras lied, but knew it wouldn't do any good. "You hate me too."

"You lied Jason, just apologize – that's really all it takes. Try it. Say: I'm sorry I lied."

Silence, nothing doing.

"I lie. Dick lies. I don't know, but I'm sure Alfred's lied at some point in his life. It happens, but when you get caught you _apologize_. So, here's the plan – until you apologize, you're in trouble. I don't want to talk to you until you do. So get upstairs and stay in your room _or …_ apologize. I _promise_ I'll forgive you."

Jason took in a deep breath and went stiff.

"I know you know how, remember yesterday when you apologized to Alfred at dinner? And the other day when you told Dick you were sorry after you hit him?"

"I don't like apologizing." Jason growled. His words were quick and stiff.

Bruce almost smiled at that, the child had sounded demonic. "Nobody likes admitting they were wrong, but you _were_ wrong – weren't you?" _Please just apologize – please just say you were wrong_.

Jason stared at the floor for a moment. "But Dick was mean to me."

"I said I didn't want to talk until you apologized. I don't care _what_ Dick did right now – this is about what _you_ did. You lied, so just say: I'm sorry."

"I wanted Dick to get in trouble is all."

Now that was progress! Jason at least admitted to something he had done wrong. Maybe in a few hours he'd be apologizing too! … Bruce could hope. He ran his foot against the carpet, making it shift directions and change colors ever so slightly. "So, are you sorry?"

"…" No, Jason wasn't sorry for lying to get Dick in trouble, even if it hadn't worked. Given the opportunity he'd try again! Lifting his head, the child looked at his guardian and neither made eye contact. "I guess so."

Good enough! Bruce made a sound, a breathy laugh and he stood up. "Well, why don't you go outside and try again? Huh? I'll tell Alfred to make them let you play."

"I don't want to play with them." Truthfully, honestly, Jason wanted very much to play with them. He just didn't want to wound his pride any more than necessary, and having Alfred go outside and force Dick and his friends into being nice qualified as such. The nine-year-old listened hard, and he heard laughter from outside. He could imagine quite vividly what was going on. Everyone was having fun. Dick was having fun, and he didn't need Jason to do that. "I don't like Dick's friends."

"Well, for what it's worth, I don't either. In fact, I don't like most people I know."

Jason took that a bit of the wrong way and kept silent.

Bruce thought about it for a few moments and then looked down at Jason who was looking discouraged and it clicked. "Wait, I don't mean _all_ the people I know. I usually don't like people I don't know. Once I get to know somebody, and they get to know me, then usually I like them."

"When do you know somebody?"

The billionaire thought about that and he shrugged his shoulders. He laughed a bit and then stopped straight away. His original answer would have been: once you understand then, but that wouldn't do any good. This was a nine-year-old. "Uhm, I guess when you know a secret about them that most people don't know."

Jason furrowed his brow. "I don't know many people then."

"Well, you know me, Dick, and Alfred – don't you?"

"I don't know secrets about you guys."

"I don't mean secrets, I mean … well, stuff."

The boy clearly was confused. He just stared at his guardian; wishing things could be explained better.

"Ok, well – you know that Alfred doesn't like people in his kitchen. Right? That's something a lot of people don't know. You know that Dick was scared of the dark. Things like that."

Ah, things were starting to make a little more sense. Jason's mouth slowly curved, growing into a smile. "And I know that you tell Missy that you like her, but you don't really!"

"… Yes … good." A strained smile. "Let's not ever tell Missy that though, ok?"

"'Cause then she'd know you, too?"

"Something like that."

Jason gave a giggle and nodded, holding up his pinky like he always did to Dick. "Stick a needle in my eye."

Bruce shared the gesture and then glanced towards the doors. "So, are you going to go outside now? Alfred should be getting the food ready soon – you don't want to miss that, do you?"

"Will you go with me?"

It was a surprising question, and one that caught Bruce off guard. He gave a slow nod, realizing that Jason was actually asking him for help with something that he actually needed help with. It wasn't just a question to annoy or deceit, it was a real request. "Yeah, I can do that."

END


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